


A Life Unlived

by wayward_angels_club



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Does not have a happy ending, Love Confessions, im so sorry everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 20:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21416170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_angels_club/pseuds/wayward_angels_club
Summary: A stakeout takes a disastrous turn and John finds himself unable to help. Instead of using his hands he uses his words to try to bring some peace and comfort to the one person that matters most
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	A Life Unlived

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, I had this idea which is odd because I stay away from this warning at all times, I know that most people also hate these types of stories but I enjoyed writing this so much, it felt so good to get back into the swing of creating again. Minor warning for slightly graphic content surrounding blood and wounds. Please give this story a chance even with its rating,, unless you know this is on the opposite of the emotion spectrum from what you need right now!

It happened one night on a case. A stakeout gone hours longer than they’d planned for, the London chill set deep in their bones as they wait, Sherlock still save for the nervous energy seen in the twitch of his hands and the stretch of his neck. John ready to be done, ready to be back at Baker Street warm and comfortable, sitting in their chairs, talking about the case over a cup of tea. 

The man they were waiting for rounds the corner and before they can comprehend what tipped the man off to their position pops of gunfire ring out Sherlock is yelling telling John to cover the other side box him in. But before John can act on those orders the firing stops and John knows the suspect is getting away so he rounds back to Sherlock hoping he’ll have a plan of action as to how to catch up with him.

When John sees Sherlock crouched down he assumes he’s found some sort of evidence that will help them with the case. He calls out as he approaches “Don’t get mad but he seems to have gotten the drop on me.”

“John, I-”

“Sherlock what is i-” Johns words die in his throat as peers over Sherlock's body once he reaches him. The fabric of his pant leg is ripped Sherlock’s face greying with shock and fear, blood flowing viciously from a ripped area of flesh far to large to have been caused by anything than a bullet tearing through his leg and a large bullet at that. “Sherlock, hey hey look at me okay this is fixable okay I can fix this enough to get you to a hospital but you need to stay focused okay? Can you do that for me?” 

Sherlock nods weakly not breaking eye contact with John, he begins to recite chemical formulas. John snaps into action,dialling Mycroft's number and letting the call sit there knowing he’ll be able to find them, assessing the wound the rate of blood flow and carefully checking for an exit wound, his heart sinks when he sees blood seeping from another hole at the back of his leg the mangled flesh even worse than the wound at the bullets entrance. 

“Okay Sherlock this isn't looking great but I can get you stabilized enough to keep you not only alive but awake to.” as he speaks he beings removing his belt from its loops and taking his jacket off he looped the belt around Sherlock's leg and tightened it trying his hardest not to stop when Sherlock screams from the pressure, gritting his teeth he tells them both that this is the only way. Setting the jacket under his leg to try to stop the bleeding caused by gravity from the exit wound. He had seen injuries similar back in Afghanistan and knew that time was of the essence. 

His biggest mistake was not checking Sherlock over properly to begin with. Looking up his heart sinks, instead of seeming more alert and less pale Sherlock had sunk further into a stupor- not close enough to unconscious to truly send John into a panic but closer than he wants him to be. His heart begins to pound in his chest cataloging the injuries the field technique of his makeshift tourniquet, and the blood loss since its application.

When he looks up again bile rises in his throat, tears prick at the back of his eyes, and all the breath in his lungs leaves in a huff similar to if he’d been punched in the diaphragm. Sherlock suit jacket had hidden the blood, had hidden the truth, had hidden the one thing John knew he couldn't handle. Seeping from his chest leaving black red seas of blood across his pure white shirt, Johns follows the flow back to its starting point, two inches down from the xiphoid process a bullet hole much to perfect, so clean in its margins. He looks up at Sherlock and can see it on his face that he understands what that shot means for him. Ripping the jacket from under his leg Johns applies pressure against the center of Sherlock's chest. Alarm bells screaming in his head all his medical training shoving itself to the forefront in an attempt to find a way to save him, but it falls away because there's nothing to do to save him the logical and medical sides of him calmly telling him that but he keeps trying because he can't let Sherlock go without the biggest fight of his life he has to try to save him. 

“Sherlock, Sherlock hey look at me okay don't look down look here right in my eyes, Mycroft knows he’ll be here any minute we just have to hold on until then.”

Sherlock's face tells John all he needs to know, tears form in the corners of Sherlock's eyes and fall in hot tracts down his face, a soft smile plays at his lips one that says ‘thank you for what you are trying to do, thank you for everything’ 

“John please, we both know whats happening here. Please stop, talk to me let me know I’m not alone. I don’t want to go alone.” His voice is so soft so light that it nearly takes the wind out of John all over again. “I’m terrified John please help me keep my mind on something that will make it easier.”

“Sher-ock,” John says voice cracking “please please stay okay look I'm right here I'm not going anywhere and you aren't going anywhere soon we’ll be back at Baker Street and you'll be playing your violin and this will be nothing more than another scar with one hell of a story okay but you have to stay here with me Sherlock you have to keep breathing.” John knows he’s being irrational knows the sentiment that's leading him down this road.

“John, talk to me more about Baker Street. Tell me about what lives we could have had there.”

“We could have been so happy for so long Sherlock, solving mysteries until our hair went grey and our knees popped every time we stood.”

“Growing old together? That’s what you wanted?”

“Always Sherlock from the first moment I met you I knew that no matter in what capacity I would gladly spend my life by your side.” John freely lets his tears fall crying for Sherlock, for the life cut too fucking short. “Sherlock can you look at me, pleas-” John slides his hand up to Sherlock's face tilting it upwards to face his own, while at the same time lifting Sherlock and positioning his legs underneath him so he’s cradled against John. “I should have said this years ago, I should have led with this but I was too much of an idiot too much of a coward too afraid of your response to ever try,” Sherlock's eyes focus in on John's face eyes John fell in love with so long ago that it feels like he always loved them. “Sherlock, I love you, I’ve loved you since the moment we met, since you cured my limp in a single night, since I made you laugh for the first time and each time after I’ve fallen in love with you more, there's nothing about you that I don't love so much it hurts.” He can see the tears falling onto Sherlock's jacket mixing with the blood- so much blood- all he wants to do is make it better, make Sherlock whole again so they can go home, so they can be happy. He begins softly stroking his had along the outside of Sherlock's face calming motions meant to soothe. He pours as much love into the movement of his hand on Sherlock’s skin as he can, knowing that he can’t do much else for him. 

Sherlock chokes out quiet sobs, he’s waited years to hear those words, lifetimes it feels to know he’s loved by John and to hear it now when there's no chance for them to live any type of happily ever after had to be the cruelest joke the universe has ever played on him.

“I’ll never forgive myself for not allowing you the life you deserved, the life I could have given you.”

“John I love you more than anything, always have,always will, please, tell me about our life together please tell me about all that you wanted from it, give me happy thoughts happy memories.”

“Sherlock we could have loved each other like no one has ever loved another person, we could have stayed in bed all day discovering each other in every way that matters and all the ways that don't. I would have worshipped every inch of your body as though it was the most divine connection to god. Mrs. Hudson would have been so happy,” John chokes on a laugh at the thought of their landlady finding out about them being together. “We could have grown old in each others arms, me grumpy as all get up you as prickly as always, our perfect selves with the other forever by our side.

“We could have retired young and when we did we could have moved up to Sussex bought a cottage like you always wanted. Acres of land no one to bother us, you could have raised bees you'd have looked so cute in a beekeepers suit. We could have had days where we did absolutely nothing, just being in each others company living a life so perfect we’d wonder what god we pleased so much to deserve all of this. Sherlock we could have been so happy together there, together like we were supposed to be from the start. We’d get a dog and them everyday together, always together, because being apart for that long just wasn't an option. You deserve the world and I would have done everything anything to give it to you, I’d give anything to be able to give it to you.” 

Sherlock is crying with abandon now, burning tears leaving stains down his cheeks and neck. John is staring at him no masks up no defenses just pure love, pure honesty in his words and Sherlock feels that the truth might kill him before the bullets do. His breath catches as he thinks that and the tears flow faster and hotter than before when he fully realizes that he’s about to die that the life John had imagined for them won’t be something they get to experience.

“John,” he starts praying his voice won't give up on him just yet, “from the day you walked into the lab at Bart's I was hooked, having your eyes on me was better than any high any drug could ever provide for me, Mike knew it, everyone did. From that first case I scarcely let myself imagine what our life could be if I took a leap of faith, trusted what my deductions gave as proof, allowed myself the terrifying possibility of getting hurt because what if it all worked out. But I never did, like you said to much of an idiot to do it. Its something I’ll never forgive myself for not in this life, not in the next not in any of them.” His voice had become hoarse airy and he’s struggling to breathe by the end of his confession but the look of pure adoration on John's face makes it worth it.

Breathing has become so difficult so painful he wants to stop stop so the pain goes away, stop so his heart doesn't break more at the lost opportunity of his life. He never thought he’d been so scared to die, so upset at the moments before his time was up. He could feel it now, a life lived in the as well as it could have been coming to a close. The world around him getting foggy, blurring out of focus until all that's left is John, it’s always just been John.

“I’ll love you forever Sherlock Holmes.”

“I’ll love you forever John Watson please never forget that.”

John isn't quite sure if his words are making any sense but he feels he must say something so he whispers sweet nothings into Sherlock's face he presses words of love onto his skin hoping they settle into his body marking him with a love he deserved to have felt for years.

At the end of his life Sherlock feels only love and hurt in his head, only pain, cold, and burning stretches where John is pressed against him in his body, only John in his heart. As his eyes slide closed for the last time and as he fades from this plane to the next the last thing he feels is John’s hand moving gently on his cheek, John’s lips on his forehead, and John’s tears on his skin.

\----------

Mycroft Holmes always knew but never accepted that he would outlive his baby brother. His brothers habit of running into danger with no regard for his safety, his affinity to mess with science, chemistry especially, and the addiction that had stolen his brother away for so long and had kept Mycroft awake worrying for days.

He never wanted to admit that his life would extend past Sherlock's but as fate would have it that reality is forming in front of him rapidly and he can do nothing to stop it or impede its momentum.

When his phone rang and John Watson's name lit up the screen he knew something was wrong, worse than wrong, life changing. There was no clear speaker on the other end of the line when he connected the call and no response to his words. Listening to the muffled sounds coming through the receiver he knew what had happened and in less than the time in took to walk the length of the room he had three teams in action. He only hoped they were close enough that his help would make a difference.

\----

Too long, this was taking too long he should have been there by now each second is more dire than the last. Each minute passing sends him closer and closer to incapacitating levels of worry for the safety, the life of his younger brother.

\----

By the time Mycroft arrived under the bridge where they had tracked John’s cell phone to he knew he was too late. The world felt off kilter, like it had just lost one of its more important occupants, the air felt charged with emotions he didn't dare put a name to because everything was fine until he had visual proof. The auditory proof should have been enough but Mycroft knew his mind was being clouded by sentiment. Stepping into the open space he could see John’s outline could see that he was gently rocking back and forth as though trying to soothe a baby or someone in pain. An army doctor never forgets his training. As he got closer the sounds began to make more sense and even before he could properly see around the hunched figure he knew. John’s murmuring turned into quietted words of love, of comfort, of peaceful imagery of what could have been. His preparation could do nothing to help his reaction to seeing his brother lying dead in John’s arms, blood having stained nearly all of his torso, left leg mangled beyond hope. Despite the look of his body his baby brothers face looked peaceful, serene even his hair was brushed back from his closed eyes his face still and soft. If Mycroft didn't know any better he’d think Sherlock was sleeping.

“John,” Mycroft hates the emotion that is so evident in his voice, the time for emotions is later, maybe never, the Holmes’ have always been quite good at never dealing with their feelings. “John it's time to let go, please let me see my brother.” John stops his stroking of Sherlock's head and moves back as Mycroft kneels down, Sherlock's head so heavy in his open palm he wonders how John was able to keep it still for so long. Together they hold him the man they both loved, two types of love Sherlock never really knew he had.

Johns words turn to sobs, its apparent he never stopped crying but as the sobs wracked his body Mycroft can tell that he's held quite a lot back in the time since his brother's untimely passing.

“He loved me, he said so and now what am I supposed to do, how am I supposed to keep going after this. It nearly killed me the first time after his fall bu- but this time how do I-”

“I’m asking myself the same questions John. All the same questions.”

“I’m nothing without him Mycroft, that was proved to me years ago how do I just keep going now we could have had a life together we should have been given that chance!”

“John if the universe was at all fair we wouldn't be here right now… DI Greg Lestrade and Dr. Molly Hooper will be here momentarily to take care of the scene. I wouldn't have let anyone else do this job John, ethics be damned.”

John shudders at the thought of having to face Greg and Molly right now the pit in his stomach sinking further as he imagines the pain on their faces masked only slightly by the pity they feel for him. He’s not prepared for this at all but he knows he’ll never be. Never be able to fully accept this new reality of his life the one he had always dreamed about being shown to him before the universe immediately snatched it away.

He steadies himself for a moment preparing at least for his immediate future and thinks ‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more’.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hate me!!!  
Feedback is always appreciated <3


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